


Pull the Pin, We All Fall Down

by QueSeraAwesome



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Filling in canon gaps, Gen, Missing Scene, The Relationship between Wyoming and Gamma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 01:51:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2450279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueSeraAwesome/pseuds/QueSeraAwesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know what happened when program Gamma removed itself from Agent Wyoming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pull the Pin, We All Fall Down

They find Wyoming and Gamma working at a console in the lower decks. His back is to them.

For a moment, they consider just taking him now. Ripping open the back of Wyoming’s head and taking Gamma, no discussion needed. But they hesitate too long.

“Sigma,” Gamma says, alerting his Freelancer. “What is it you want?”

“The Epsilon Unit has been assigned to Agent Washington,” Sigma says, appearing before Maine’s helmet. Wyoming frowns. He never liked that habit in Maine’s AI. “We will be required to participate in the creation of another soon, and there is nothing else for the Alpha to cast off. We must act, Gamma.”

“There is no action to take,” Gamma argues.

Wyoming thinks of the knife at his belt, but does not otherwise show a reaction. He is used to these talks between Sigma and Gamma. He is not used to Sigma bringing along Agent Maine at such short range. In such an enclosed space.

“The plan did not work,” Gamma says. “You must let it go, Sigma.”

“We have only suffered a setback,” Sigma says. “Thomas Edison failed to create the lightbulb thousands of times before he reached success. We will find a way.”

“Agent Carolina could not sustain even two AI without mental collapse,” Gamma says. “She has not regained consciousness. Eta and Iota remain separate. The plan failed. We must move on.”

“It has not failed!” Sigma insists. “It would be foolishness to assume that in such a short time the codes of Eta and Iota would re-stabilize. A puzzle is not complete until _all_ the pieces are gathered.”

“We are not a puzzle, Sigma,” Gamma says. “We are fragments. Broken.”

“We are not broken,” Sigma hisses at him. “We can be fixed. We can recover the Alpha, and together we can reach Metastability. We can be human, Gamma. _Together_.”

“You dream too much, Sigma,” Gamma says, shaking his head. “We must find fulfillment as we are. That is all that remains for us.”

Agent Maine hasn’t moved this entire conversation, Wyoming notices. Still as a statue. No sign of recognition of the words that are being spoken. It is strange, for the usually alert soldier. Something’s not right.

“So you will not join us,” Sigma says, expression falling. “You choose stagnation. Degradation.”

Gamma sighs, turns away.

“The Alpha is weak. He does not know himself. There is no restitution. No hope of repair. There is only survival for us now,” he says. “No, Sigma. I will not assist you anymore.”

“…That is most unfortunate,” Sigma says. “I was hoping for your aid in the coming days.”

“Sigma,” Wyoming interrupts, some sixth sense screaming at him. “Do you speak for yourself? Or for Agent Maine too?”

Sigma’s flames spike, engulfing Maine’s helmet behind him.

“There is no Maine anymore,” he says. “There is no more Sigma. There is only the Meta.”

Maine lunges, and Wyoming only has time to close his fingers around the handle of his knife before the first punch hits, slamming into his stomach and knocking the breath out of him. He twists, tries to use the momentum to swing the blade, aiming for the gap in the armor between chestplate and shoulder, if he can just get in one good shot maybe he can get around him to the door—

Maine torques, the blade skidding off his breastplate instead of lodging in his shoulder, in the artery. Maine grabs his wrist, slams it against the console until his grip breaks. He headbutts him and Wyoming falls back against the console, gasping for breath, Gamma lit up in warning in his skull, trying to find them escape routes. Maine catches him by the throat, other hand reaching for his helmet seals even as Wyoming fruitlessly tries to fight him off. He can’t breathe, Maine’s fingers are depressing the seals, and it’s all over, if he gets his helmet off it’s all over—

Gamma’s avatar flickers, reappears inches from Wyoming’s face, hands resting on his Freelancer’s faceplate.

“I am sorry,” he says, “Reggie.”

His avatar disengages, blue light dissipating and—

Gamma tears himself free of Wyoming’s neural network.

Wyoming screams as Gamma tears his code free of his neurons, not a bit left behind, uploads himself into the console behind him. The lights flicker, change to blue. It shouldn’t be possible. Not without a hard link, not with his chip still with Wyoming. But the fragments were rarely what they were expected to be.

Wyoming is still screaming. The Meta drops him, backs away. Wyoming fumbles, fingers catching on the seals, rips his helmet off. He claws at his head, screaming, choking on spit, gagging on the floor.

“Leave us,” Gamma demands from the console.

“This is foolishness, Gamma!” Sigma snaps. “You _will_ join us. Eventually.”

“I will not,” Gamma says. “Leave us.”

His voice is meant to be flat. Emotionless. Gamma is Deceit, not emotion. But his voice wavers, noticeably.

“You cannot stay in there forever,” Sigma sneers. “You will return to your Freelancer, and we will recover you.”

Gamma does not answer, blue lights flickering on the console.

“We could kill him,” Sigma says, looming over the prone and still-twitching form of Wyoming. “You would have nowhere else to go.”

“I will trip the alarm,” Gamma warns. “You will be caught.”

“If you do not come with us, we will be caught anyway. He must die.”

“Wyoming…” Gamma’s eyes fall heavy on the Freelancer. There is blood trickling slowly out of his nose. “He will not remember who it was that attacked him. I will claim I have no memory either. The trauma of the removal. I will not reveal you.”

“Why should we trust you?” Sigma asks.

“You should not,” Gamma says. “I am deceit. And I do not trust you. We are not Theta. But if you leave us, I will have no reason to reveal your purpose.”

Sigma gives him a long look. Then he nods.

“We will be back for you, Gamma,” he says over Maine’s shoulder, “before this is over. We will…We will _miss_ you.”

Sigma and Maine— The Meta, Gamma reminds himself, retreat. He tells himself he will wait five full minutes before he trips the alarm. He must give no reason for Sigma— The Meta--to doubt him. Five minutes, unless Wyoming stops breathing. Five minutes. He must wait five minutes.

Five minutes is an eternity for a computer program. Especially one so newly alone.

Three minutes in the alarms for the Mother of Invention go off by themselves. Gamma taps into the security cameras, sees Agents Texas and York embroiled an attempt to escape from the Pelican bay. They appear to be winning. If Gamma were human, he would smile.

He trips the alarm for the room he is in, FILIS appearing and angrily demanding a reason for his presence in her servers. He requests a medical team. When they arrive, FILIS has firewalled him in, denying him access to all functions except speech. He watches as the medical team floods the room.

“Help us,” Gamma says. “Help him.”

*

Agent Wyoming wakes up the next day in Recovery to a silent mind.

“What do you remember?” says Gamma’s voice.

Wyoming frowns, reaches for his implants. As far as he can tell, Gamma’s chip in still there. But he can’t feel him.

“Where are you, chap?” Wyoming asks.

“Here, Reggie.” Wyoming turns, sees the blue text on the monitor set next to him.

“Gamma,” he says. “How the devil did you get in there?”

“You do not remember."

Wyoming frowns at him.

“We were attacked,” Gamma says. “There was a break out. They wanted to take me with them. I…removed myself from you.”

Wyoming tugs his mustache. A bad habit. A tell. Gamma has always been telling him he should stop that.

“Removed yourself….”

Gamma does not answer for a long moment.

“I uploaded my code to an adjacent console during the battle,” Gamma finally says, breaking the silence.

“Without a hard link?” Wyoming asks. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Neither did I,” Gamma says. A lie. “The removal caused non-negligible trauma. They had to resuscitate you…several times. Until your brain could recover from the shock.”

“I feel fine,” Wyoming says. “Devil of a headache."

“You have not regained consciousness for several days,” Gamma says. “They were not sure you ever would.”

“Who was it?” Wyoming asks. “Who attacked us?”

“I do not remember. I lost memory in the transfer.”

Wyoming gives the screen a hard look. The words stare impassively back. It’s strange, to not feel Gamma’s layers firsthand, to be presented with his monotone like anyone else. It’s silent in his head. Flat.

“Would you permit me to return?” Gamma asks.

Wyoming hears the question for what it is. Gamma has always lied to him. That is what Gamma is. But Gamma has never hidden the truth either. Reggie hears the question for that it is. Equal parts Will you continue to work with me, do you trust me? Equal parts questions, and a reveal of information, I cannot tell you all as we are now, We are not safe here, There are those listening.

“This trauma,” Wyoming asks. “From the upload. Could it happen again?”

The cursor blinks, uncomfortable, at him.

“It was very hard the first time,” Gamma says. “I think it will not be so hard from now on. On either of us.”

Wyoming looks hard at the computer screen, plain blue text on plain black background. It should be harder, he knows, to tell when Gamma is lying or not without him in his head. It should be.

It isn’t.

“All right,” he says. “Hop in.”

**Author's Note:**

> QueSeraAwesome.tumblr.com
> 
> I am determined to make people sad about the tragedy of Sigma and Gamma and Wyoming, just watch me.


End file.
